#or reaffirms a sorting more like

[bitchfitch]

idk. My like. Actual day job involves a lot of needing to know how copyright laws relate to the use of stock images and reference images in art. Like, That is an entire part of the studio I work fors legal teams monthly emails about like documenting sources and such.

And I just saw a post that had a stock model who linked his ToC. I feel so bad for this dude bc like. I prefer to respect folks wishes when it comes to how their images are being used, but he was going Full legal jargon with warnings about contacting lawyers and what not.

and basically none of his ToC was actually legally enforcable. Some of it was Actually Extremely Illegal as it would be classed as like discrimination under relavant laws. Some of it was absolute nonsense, you like need signed contracts for some of this stuff not a DA page that says them, and like. Idk. It's clear he was coming from a place of self protection and I will not fault him for it or use his images but I Desperately hope he never actually tries to go to court over any of it because he Will lose, and he will be loosing Hard.

[todayisafridaynight]

Sorry to keep throwing Miscellaneous Asks your way, but I finally had a moment to get my thoughts in order on one of the points on your Venn diagram I wanted to talk about! I always kind of debate whether or not to send other, semi-unrelated long asks like this when we've already got a chain going, but oh well. I'll try and address anything brought up in response here in the main one and hopefully it doesn't get confusing lol.

So I was thinking about the extent of Jo and Arakawa's relationship. It is completely true there's not much you can say that's concrete, especially since most of what we see is from Jo's perspective. Although his perspective is crucial to forming an understanding of their relationship, it's not sufficient. This is particularly the case because, coming back to giri-ninjo for a moment, Jo is largely bound by giri; it's clear his loyalty runs deep, but it's not a choice for him.

Arakawa, on the other hand, can choose who he places his trust in, especially early on. And I think it's incredibly important that, despite having men who've already been with him from day 1, men who've already been helping him with his son, Arakawa chooses to "place every confidence" in Jo (per an old Famitsu profile, one of the first official ones) and chooses to make Jo his captain.

Similarly, he kind of chooses Jo "over" Ichi in sending Ichi to prison "instead of" Jo. Perhaps the family really would collapse without Jo's talents, but… does it have to collapse entirely? Didn't Arakawa make it pretty far on his own? I guess it's neither here nor there, but I've always wondered if things would've really played out as feared if Jo went to prison instead. Not to understate Jo's role in the family, of course.

Anyway, I think that trust shows not only in overt gestures such as entrusting Masato and the family's finances to Jo, but also in more subtle behind-the-scenes ways, such as what we were talking about before with regard to New Year's 2001. There's also the fact that leaking information to Aoki was Jo's idea; for that to be the case, Arakawa would have to discuss Aoki's threats at length with Jo. (Unrelated, but come to think of it, "complying with him [to] make him see value in keeping us around" is very often the strategy of victims of abuse and neglect…)

And this one's an underrated detail many people miss, but after Arakawa shot Ichi, while he was able to come up to Ichi to tell him he's counting on him and sneak in the fake bill, if the goal was to not arouse suspicion, I don't think he would exactly have been able to excuse himself from the dinner to drive Ichi to Yokohama. Time was of the essence in terms of Ichi's survival, so that leaves Jo, who was conveniently already at the scene and who was certainly in on the "secret rule" that constitutes part of the Arakawa Family's agreement with the homeless camp. Overall, there is a pattern of Arakawa approaching Jo before anyone else, isn't there?

Sort of branching off of that, I would personally feel comfortable saying that Jo knows Arakawa better than anyone else. He seems to know details about Akane and New Year's 1976 no one else does, details Arakawa would have had to volunteer himself, and that plus his own experiences are what allow him alone to have the most complete picture of that night.

I also get the impression Jo understands Arakawa better as a person than anyone else--certainly better than Aoki, but perhaps even better than Ichi in some cases. There are multiple instances where he defends Arakawa and challenges their perceptions of him--that he's "betrayed" the Tojo Clan, that he's betrayed Aoki, that he's the type to scheme and make power-plays behind Aoki's back. He hasn't. And, despite how little Jo's "allowed" to say, he turns out to be right every time. Also worth noting Arakawa does something similar in asking Ichi to try and understand Jo's frustrations, though he's more or less enabling Jo's abuse in doing so.

Lastly, The Smallest Detail that drives me kind of insane. Them arriving at the office in the back seat of the same car in one of Ichi's flashbacks. I wouldn't think too much of it if it were any other time of day, but the first-thing-in-the-morning quality and the fact Jo isn't driving (thus it's not as an act of service but as an equal) is like… Okay. You're carpooling to work. And if you're not carpooling, you're honest-to-god living together. What the hell.

So a lot of it is this web of inferences--it has to be, at least currently--but I really do think there's a lot to chew on. More than meets the eye, anyway. I've also been stewing in all of this for years, especially since drafting Jo's relationships section, so I might just have inhaled the fumes for too long lol

Thank you for coming to me about the nature of their relationship! Although I did put it down as being more-or-less 'uncertain' on my chart, I do agree that their relationship isn't as cut-and-dry as other relationships might be (it's going back to appreciating the complexities of RGG relationships, especially in the case of the Arakawa's where for every party involved it really IS complicated)

I wanted to exclude making any definitive statements on things that couldn't be verified without making a detour on the original post (I know I already mentioned frequently that Arakawa is able to joke about Jo being 'softer' on Masato, but I do think about their relationship often and the implied depth of Jo's loyalty if- as you said- he was able to climb through the ranks of the Arakawa family much quicker than preexisting members), but there are clear points in the game that due allude to a great trust between the two (and I also note that carpooling detail during Ichi's flashback- or at the very least I know I'd find myself noticing Jo sitting in the back opposed to the front/driving). It's definitely not hard to assert that Jo knows Arakawa well either, it's hard not to come to that conclusion when we have evidence from the game to infer that.

[lavellane]

i cannot believe im saying this but ive been thinking about my cousland and sten all morning and theyre making me insane

[serestial]

THIS IS SO 😭😭😭 mamousa core

[mightaswelljxmp]

hm ok so interestingly, bdubs’s courthouse is built on an odd number of blocks. note the roof of the facade coming to a point, but more importantly, the nine pillars….

you don’t use an odd number of pillars. like ever.

let me get this out of the way first: i get why you’d build with odd numbers in minecraft. i usually do it myself, to not run into problems like double doors or two-wide pointed roofs or frustrating spacing/symmetry between decorative elements. however. to not even out the design of something so unequivocally done in every other example of columns and pillars…. fascinating implications…

every other example guys. every other building with columns like this has an even number of them.

doing so sets the line of symmetry at an invisible point between two pillars, an even number on each side. but an odd total number of pillars makes the central pillar itself the line of symmetry. this does a couple things.

one, it upends the sense of community and equality. which i know sounds crazy, but really, a group of columns are all put there to hold up a structure. there’s no focus on one because they are all are working as supports.

symbolically, at least when first used in ancient greece, pillars represented people. and it makes sense for courthouses, especially, to want to show an even, fair, equal number of people on each side. no focus on any one, no inherent bias right off the bat just looking at it.

with an odd number of pillars, though, one will always be placed front and center.

and THEN. and then you walk in the courtroom itself (also odd-numbered blocks) and you are immediately opposite the judge, bdubs, located exactly centrally. and true, courtrooms are often set up like this anyway. but bdubs ups the ante and reaffirms that no, focus is on him by staging it all as a daytime court show, boom mic just over his head, cameras pointed in, spotlights on him.

literally by design, it was not built for justice. it’s built for show, for entertainment. and just look at the credits to know exactly what sort of message you’re supposed to be getting from this show.

the biblical story he used, with king solomon. it’s about king solomon. isn’t really about the trial itself, or the babies, or the women. it’s about showing (off) how wise and just he is. that’s the point. hm. interesting.

now, getting to the second point that etho also picked up on: it feels like a prison.

it’s not just the color palette. when your eyes naturally draw to the center point, you aren’t seeing an open space. instead of feeling like an arch or gateway or otherwise some kind of opening, the pillar there makes it feel closed off. the overall effect is that of prison bars. not pillars lining the entrance to a place of order or a temple. bars of a cage, a cell.

imagine the lincoln memorial were set up with 11 or 13 pillars. he’d look so much more trapped in there.

having a central pillar blocks the entrance. it’s not welcoming. you have to go around it; it’s immediately inconveniencing you. and when you go to leave, it’s there blocking you again.

this courthouse was not designed and built to be fair, nor accomodating, nor equitable, on any terms. even if unintentional, i wouldn’t call it so much coincidental as i would… subconscious.

after all, y’know. form follows function.

[xinganhao]

🎭 svt when idol!reader releases a breakup song.

anon → "may i request when idol!s/o releases a breakup song? maybe for like a promotion or a comeback but not because of svt iykwim"

⌗ ┆ i have a soft spot for my earlier idol!reader work so it was fun to revisit them <3 a little more crack, less headcanons than usual lol

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: idol!reader, f!reader, established relationship, pet names, fluff, crack, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🎭 headcanons .ᐟ

— drama line ✩ seungcheol, junhui, mingyu, vernon.

all the boys are bound to kick up a fuss one way or another, but nobody throws a tantrum like choi seungcheol. that man will be on your case for weeks. "why couldn't it have been a love song? why are you so good at singing about breakups?" junhui is equally dramatic, though in a different manner. he goes down the route of spite. the song is officially banned in the dorms. if anyone plays it in his vicinity, he will honest-to-goodness glare them down. as far as he's concerned, you have no reason to be crooning about situationships when you have a perfectly good partner waiting for you at home! mingyu is in the exact same boat, by the way. he is personally offended. he knows he's been a good boyfriend. and you're out here singing like he's broken your heart? oh, hell no. mingyu is going to get ridiculously over the top with his boyfriendisms to prove a point to— well, maybe just to himself. in contrast to the rest, vernon takes a different approach. a little moral high road, if you will. he doesn't whine about it, but he does get— in the other boys' words— 'emo' about the whole thing. an instagram rebrand? frank ocean being one of his top artists of the month? ... you get the picture.

— sweetheart line ✩ joshua, soonyoung, wonwoo, seokmin, minghao, seungkwan.

a good number of the boys would take the breakup song with relative grace. joshua is aware that it's strictly work, but he doesn't miss out on the opportunity to tease you a bit about it. he'll take any opportunity to remind you of how much he cares about you, even if it is in a roundabout sort of way. wonwoo usually errs more on the side of rationality, too, though this breakup song scares him just a teensy bit. he doesn't bother you about it; he'll cope in his own little way until he comes around. (he's not opposed to reaffirmations of your love, though.) at this point? soonyoung and seungkwan can be a comedy act, really. we have soonyoung apologizing for every little thing he's done, just so he can ascertain that you will not be writing about him in your next album. and then we have seungkwan who assumes the song is a not-so subliminal message of some sorts; he is immensely relieved when you tell him that you're not, in fact, ending things via comeback. and the sweetest of them all. seokmin doesn't care if it's a four minute song. he'll take apart every single lyric, offering you reassurances that you don't even need, until you have a hard time performing the song with sincerity because your boyfriend has made it much less convincing. meanwhile, minghao spends hours ruminating before just asking outright. he's a bit shy at the fact that he's potentially overthought this, although he'd much rather be overprepared on being a good boyfriend than fall on the other end of the coin.

— revenge line ✩ jeonghan, jihoon, chan.

did you think jeonghan was kidding about couple's therapy? absolutely not. booking a session for the two of you is, in part, a joke, sure. but he's also a believer in therapy, anyway, so it becomes one of your... admittedly weirder dates, but there are certainly worse ways to unpack this non-issue. jihoon and chan stick to what they know best. jihoon's teasing of a 'response' song just means that there's going to be a certain track in the next mini-album that may or may not answer the questions/refute the claims/reassures the worries of your breakup ballad. he's classy that way. chan, on the other hand, has a lot less finesse. he's not so subtle in the way he literally makes up a routine— is it a slow song? he'll do contemporary, then!— and posts it for everyone to see. he needs everyone to know that he is unbothered. flourishing. in his lane.

[mxmollusca]

I think a lot about Taika's outfit here. It's gotten a lot of hate, but I'm not sure why. It's certainly one of the more understated of his outfits from this show. I've heard people call it the Amish fit, or the Mary fit, or that he should have pumped it up with platforms or color or some other accessories, but...

I like that it's understated. It doesn't feel performative. It's not camp. Not that there is anything wrong with camp, obviously. There's something to be said about the power of camp, the power of that sort of theatrical expression. Lil Nas X springs immediately to mind as a trailblazer in that arena.

The thing is, not every deviation from gender norms needs to be like that. Demanding that this look be elevated, or over the top, or flashier, or brighter feels like demanding inauthenticity. I am reminded of something Taika said in an interview about Hunt for the Wilderpeople:

I come from a country whose idea of masculinity is quite extreme and I've grown up around a lot of that energy, I've been part of that a lot. And it's very draining, it's quite tiring trying to be macho.

I see this outfit as another type of subversion. It is plain, but then not. It's conservative, but then not. Why does every foray into the feminine need to be bright and fuzzy and sparkly and pink? Can things not be simultaneously soft and serious? Cold and kind? We don't know to what degree Taika had a say in the choice of this outfit. What I do know is that, as an indigenous man growing up in Aotearoa and then later entering into an industry that not just reaffirms but galvanizes traditional gender roles, he most likely sees nuances that others miss.

There's a difference between thinking an outfit is boring versus demanding that it goes further to push what is in actuality just another gender norm.

[emchante]

kinktober | sunrise sensations - l.h.

day 6 - thigh riding | kinktober masterlist

summary: after waking up, you climb into a sleepy lewis hamilton’s lap. he might  be half-asleep, but he’s aware of your needs, and helps you chase your release.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, thigh riding, morning sex, sleepy sex, light teasing, soft dom lewis hamilton.

w.c. 1.3k+

a/n: welcome to day 6. this event is bringing me all sorts of experiences, as this is my first time writing lewis. see you all next week for the next two fics. let me know your thoughts via reblog, comment or ask, i love hearing from you guys.

you wake up to the soft sound of lewis’ deep, steady breathing, the morning light filtering through the curtains casting a golden hue on the room. you stretch beside him, feeling the heat radiating from his body as he lay awake on his back, tattooed hand and arm draped lazily over his head. 

there’s something about the quiet moments like these that make your heart race. the way his peaceful expression contrasts with the intensity of the man during the day— always pushing himself, always striving for more. 

but this morning, you feel a different kind of need building inside you. you've always loved the warmth of lewis, the strength that seems to pulse just beneath the surface of his skin, even when he's at rest. and right now, in the hazy stillness of the morning, with your body craving something more, you can't resist the temptation to be closer.

you shift slightly in bed, propping yourself up on one elbow as you study his face, his features were softened due to his relaxed state. his lips were parted just enough to let his slow, rhythmic breaths escape, his eyes were fluttered closed, long eyelashes resting upon his skin. you bit your lip, the heat between your legs growing as you take in the sight of him.

quietly, you move yourself from laying with him to moving onto his body, positioning yourself so you're straddling his thigh. the movement stirs him just enough for his eyes to slowly open, his dark orbs staring down at you, flickering down to where your plush thighs captured his own. you took a deep breath before gulping, your heart racing as you pressed yourself down, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation of his muscular thigh beneath you.

lewis shifts slightly, the movement sending a spark of pleasure through your core. his thigh tenses reflexively, which caused a gasp to escape from your mouth, biting your lip to hold back a moan. you noticed how the lazy smirk made its way onto his face and it was evident he did it on purpose. it worked though, it's all the encouragement you need. you roll your hips experimentally, dragging yourself against him, your breath hitching at the friction. even half-asleep, his body is attuned to you, responding in ways that drive you crazy.

he let out a low hum, his head turning slightly toward you, and his arm dropped from behind his head to rest on your hip, fingers pressing gently into your skin. it’s a simple gesture, but it's enough to let you know he's aware, letting you know he's with you, even if he's not fully awake.

"mm, what're you doin', sweetheart?" his voice is thick with sleep, gravelly and soft, but there's a hint of amusement there too. it reaffirmed that he wasn’t against this, which you had silently doubted. 

you don't stop, your hips rolling again as you find a perfect rhythm— not too fast, but not too slow that it’s teasing— and the pressure against your clit sent shivers through your body. "needed you," you whisper, leaning down to brush your lips against his jawline. "you feel so good.." you told him, moaning against his warm skin when your clit pressed against his strong thigh just right. 

he hummed again, his hand tightening slightly on your hip, now guiding you to ride his thigh, knowing just what you like. his thigh flexed again beneath you, giving you just the right amount of pressure, and you can't help another quiet moan that slips from your lips. even in this half-asleep state, he knows exactly what you need.

"keep goin', then," he murmured, voice still rough but laced with his own desire now. his grip on your waist grew firmer, his body enjoying waking up to the moment, to you. you had never been like this before, and it was a welcome change. 

you quickened your pace, the slickness between your legs making it easy to glide against him. each movement sent a new wave of heat coursing through you, the building pleasure making your thighs tremble. you couldn’t stop the sting of whines that left you at how good it felt, the sensations starting to become a little too much. his hand slipped under your shirt, large palm splayed against the small of your back, continuing to guide you as he helped you chase your release. 

the friction of his skin against your most sensitive spot was overwhelming, each roll of your hips bringing you closer to the edge that you so desperately desired. you pressed down harder, the pressure perfect as your pace grows more frantic; far from the steady pace you started with initially. your breath comes out in ragged gasps, and you can't focus on anything but the heat, the feeling of him beneath you, and the way he's letting you take what you need.

lewis’ other hand comes up, inked fingers brushing over your thigh, encouraging you without saying a word. his breathing had also changed, becoming heavier. you knew he was fully awake now, fully aware of the effect he's having on you.

"that's it," he murmured, his voice a low rumble which turned you on even further. "you're so close, aren't you love? barely been on my thigh for a few minutes and you’re already about to break,” he cooed, fingers squeezing your soft thigh, and his other hand gripped your hip tighter. 

you nodded frantically in response, unable to form words as you continued to grind your hips desperately against him. you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the tightness building and building, the coil about to snap. it's almost unbearable. almost.

"come on, love," he whispered, his voice still husky from not being long awake.  he moved to sit himself up straighter— the movement adding more friction, which you whimpered at— and moved himself so his lips were ghosting your ear. "take it, take what you need,” he told you lowly, kissing the spot just below your ear. 

it’s all you needed to hear. with one final roll of your hips, you felt the tension snap, your release crashing over you in waves. your body shook, thighs trembling as you ground down against him, riding out the high. a breathless moan escaped you as you buried your face in the nape of his neck, your shaky hands gripping at his shoulders for support.

lewis’ hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, his calloused thumb traced lazy patterns on your skin as he let you come down from your high. he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair as your breathing had started to slow down to a more regular pace.

for a while, the only sound in the room was your inconsistent breathing, as the warmth of his body helped to ground you as you lay draped over him, completely spent.

"good morning to you, too," he chuckled softly, the vibration of his voice rumbling through his chest. you could feel the smile in his words, that familiar, easy confidence he always carries with him.

you lifted your head slightly to meet his gaze, your face flushed and hair tousled, but you couldn’t help but bashfully smile back at him. "sorry, I couldn't wait,” you whispered, as the shyness overtook you once more. 

he grinned at you, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep, but filled with that spark you know all too well. "hey, no complaints here," he murmured, before he pulled you closer for a slow, lazy kiss which you happily reciprocated. 

after pulling away, you lay rested against him, with his arms wrapped around you— you feel a sense of contentment settle over you. moments like these, when it was just the two of you, tangled up in each other, are the ones you cherished the most.

[bouncybongfairy]

Freezer Burn

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Tensions are running high which causes a argument between Zuko and yourself. He bruises the confidence you have in your hunting abilities and reaffirms your fear of being a burden. Wanting to prove otherwise, you go out in the cold to hunt. Feeling guilty about how he treated you, he goes out to find you. The two of you find some innovative ways to keep warm.

Word Count: 2.0k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Everyone was having a rough day of travel, even Appa was reaching his limit. It was freezing and the optimism of finding a warm place to sleep was fading in everyone. Anng found a small cave that would work for the night. It was on a small mountain and overlooked an even smaller village. Zuko started making a fire while Katara and yourself set up the tents. Yang and Sokka were already asleep, curled into Appa’s thick fur. You were hungry but so was everyone else. 

“Are we going to be able to hunt for food soon? Or get some water?” you asked. 

“We could but I don’t think the cold would allow us to be out there for long. Not to mention there wouldn’t be any animals out, it's just too cold,” she said. 

“Not to mention you’d barely come home with anything in good weather,” Zuko grumbled, poking at the fire. He’d been making cracks at you all day, at first you could ignore him. Excusing his behavior on fatigue and hunger pains, but now you were taking it personally. 

“You’re not a prince among us, so stop acting like it” you say in hopes of lowering his ego.

“I am the best fighter and hunter, the past two battles you’ve only slowed us down. Maybe if we had a successful kill earlier we wouldn’t be hungry now,” he said. 

“Zuko don’t say that!” Katara snapped. 

All day you’d been beating yourself up over that mistake. Deep down you knew the rest of the group was irritated about you costing them the meal earlier. It just reaffirmed your insecurity. Grabbing your bow and arrows, you start putting your clothes back on while preparing for a hunt. 

“We’re all really tired and yes we may be hungry but you’re not the sole reason for that. Zuko is obviously just grumpy, don’t let his outburst get to you,” she says, grabbing your arm. 

Deep down you wanted to listen and calm down, rest for a while. Your pride however wouldn’t allow you to stop yourself. As you left, you could hear Katara yelling at Zuko to apologize. The feeling of dread bubbled in your stomach, you didn’t want to make anyone worry but your ego was clouding your judgment. Everyone in the group had their own ways of helping and at times you did feel like a burden. Extra weight that Appa had to carry on his back. It wasn’t that you were mad about what Zuko said, you were more frustrated that it was true. At this point it felt like you’d been walking for hours. The snow was coming down hard, without any signs of lightning. Not eating and your lack of rest was starting to get to you. Your stomach felt like it was eating away at itself. Eyes burning and muscles starting to stiffen from the cold penetrating your clothes. You tried not to go too far, knowing you couldn’t carry an animal in the cold that far. But you had to get some distance between you and the cave in order to find any wild game. Finally spotting a young Moose Lion, looking lost and confused, you almost hesitated when readying your bow. After successfully hitting the animal, your body floods with adrenaline. This quickly fades as you realize you’ll have to drag the thing home. Seemingly underestimating the size which caused a struggle when walking back. Even though it was freezing, you’d broken into a sweat. Starting to feel lightheaded, you took a moment to catch your breath. 

Katara was pacing at the entrance of the cave, anxious for your arrival. He wouldn’t admit it, but Zuko was feeling his own regret about how he’d spoken to you. He didn’t mean to let his anger get the best of him, it just sort of happened. 

“I think I should go out to look for her, she could be freezing to death,” she said, starting to get dressed.

“You can’t, it’s a full blown blizzard,” Zuko said, standing up. 

“Well we can’t just leave her to die out there!” Katara snaps, upset that he would even suggest stopping her from leaving. 

“I know, but only a fire bender would have the resources to survive such severe weather. I’ll go,” he said, making the fire sustainable for the time he’d be gone for. 

“Just be careful,” Katara said as he walked into the cold.

Once he felt just how bad it was outside, his guilt intensified. It wasn’t true what he said about you being a burden. He was just feeling insecure about his own place in the group. Simply projecting his inner turmoil onto you. Knowing it pushed you this far was getting to him. He took a deep breath and started following the faint track you left. Even though a fresh layer of snow was now covering the foot prints, it was still enough to follow. At times Zuko would use his fire for warmth and light. Getting desperate, he began calling your name out. Fatigue was starting to affect him as well. He finally thought he saw you, laying against the animal. He assumed you were just pulling the arrow out but when he got closer he noticed you were passed out. He immediately started assessing you, looking around knowing he had to find shelter that was closer than the rest of the group. Using his fire, he melts a coating of snow and ice, covering a small cave. The animal luckily kept you warm while he wasn’t there but he was still worried about your fingers. They had practically no color and your lips were tinted blue. Once he got you inside the cave, next to the fire he created, he brought the animal in. Impressed that you shot it right through the chest. Taking off his outer layers and bundling you up in them. He was relieved to see the color coming back to your fingertips and cheeks. Checking every once in a while to make sure you were getting too close and burning yourself. 

The two of you wouldn’t be able to make the trip back any time soon, so Zuko began skinning and sectioning off the meat. Washing his hands with melted snow he was slowly collecting. As he roasted the meat, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. Your eyelashes were long and the light from the fire was illuminating your face. Sleeping with your lips slightly parted, hair completely unraveled from the tight bun it once was in. After a couple hours, you slowly began to come too. Sitting up rubbing your eyes, Zuko rushes over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, brushing the hair out of your face. He grabbed a bowl of water, bringing it to your lips,

“Sit closer to the fire,” he said, helping you sit up fully. Still weak, you were wobbling while you sat criss-crossed. Still shivering a bit because your back was cold, not able to feel the heat from the fire. Zuko notices this and comes to sit behind you, stabilizing and warming you up. He was using a stick to roast the meat he’d prepared from the animal. It smelt really good, and was the only reason you were keeping your eyes open. He brought the stick to your lips but you were too weak to rip a piece off. Trying to bite a small chunk but not having the strength to actually get a bite. He laughs at your attempt and rips a small piece off, bringing it to your mouth. He repeated this a couple times, giving you sips of water in between. Letting you digest, he rests his chin on top of your head and keeps cooking. After eating, you could feel yourself gaining strength and energy. Becoming more aware of your surroundings.

“What happened?” you asked, looking around and noticing it was only you and Zuko. 

“You went out to hunt and passed out. I came looking for you but the storm was too powerful to travel back to camp with you and the kill. So we're camping here for the night,” he explained, adding more wood to the fire. 

That was when you slowly started putting the pieces of your memory back together. You were grateful to be sheltered now, definitely counting your blessings. Noticing that Zuko wasn’t wearing a shirt, you took off what he gave you. He accepted it but didn’t put it on right away, instead just laying it on his neck like a scarf. 

“I’m sorry for egging you on like that, and for not stopping you from leaving,” he said, moving his chin from your head to your collarbone. 

“It was my decision, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was my stubbornness that put both of us at risk,” you said. 

“I like that you're stubborn, that you don’t listen to people who underestimate you,” he said.

“I thought you hated me,” you chuckle. 

“I know that’s what I show but it couldn’t be further than the truth,” he spoke softly. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” you asked, moving your back closer against his chest. 

“As mean as I’ve been, you always are so nice and understanding. Even when I don’t deserve it,” he said. 

“Zuko you always deserve it, you’re easy to love,” you say, turning to face him. 

His face was bright red and for the first time you were seeing his vulnerability. Just slightly, like he didn’t want to give too much away. You move his hair out of the way and look at his scar. Although he looked a little embarrassed, he tilted his head so you could get a full look. Without thinking, you started kissing the skin around his eye. He ended up catching your lips with his. Immediately you move so that you’re straddling his lap. His back was pressed against the wall of the cave, your back was facing the fire. Running your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft the strands were. He moaned into your mouth as you pulled and tugged. Rocking your hips against crotch, your stomach tightening after feeling him get hard. You take in a sharp intake of breath and narrow down, focusing on rubbing against his shaft. Zuko’s hips began to buck involuntarily, which led to his taking his pants off. You follow his lead and do the same, also removing your top. Using his hands to rock your hips against his. Partly because he liked spreading your wetness along himself but also enjoying watching your chest bounce. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, you let out a strangled moan. The pleasure was so intense the rocking of your hips was becoming erratic. Seeing you react so intensely to his touch made him go somewhat feral. 

Flipping you over so your back is against the cold ground. He was feverishly kissing your neck and chest, at times making you giggle. He smiled down at you, taking in how beautiful your eyes were in the soft glow of the fire. Your entire body felt like it was burning down to your core. Pulling your knees to your chest, taking the hint he sat up. He was now towering above you, his member laying on your front. Leaking pre-cum onto your lower stomach. He grabs himself, slapping his dick on your pussy. Enjoying the moans and whines coming from your mouth every time he rubbed his tip against your clit. He enjoyed watching you beneath him, desperate for his touch. A relief only he could provide you. Unable to take any more foreplay, he presses into you. Muttering curses as he is overwhelmed by your heat. How tight you felt around him and your moans matching up with his movement made him feel overstimulated. Like he couldn’t slow his heart rate down. Watching as your tits bounced with every thrust, how braindead you were from pleasure. He presses his hands down on your stomach so he could feel this cock pounding in and out of you. The sudden pressure was enough to send you over the edge. Pulling Zuko down and raking your nails down his back, 

“Fuck!” he said it loud, right in your ear. 

His thrusts were unrelenting as he chased his orgasm. Groaning and moaning into your shoulder as he finally came. Rutting into you as he came inside you, pressing himself as close as he could be to you. Petting his hair and whispering encouraging things into his hair. He laid down beside you, pulling you into his chest before covering the two of you with a woven quilt. Giving the fire one last hit before drifting off to sleep with you.

[kenjioharashotspot]

🎥 | the campaign

pairing: kenji sato x fem!reader

words: 3758

synopsis: [name] [surname] is a world-renowned model and was scouted to do a campaign with Japan's sweetheart, Kenji Sato for the well-known brand, Calvin Klein.

author's note: the one-shot is intended for mature audiences, as it contains sexual descriptions.

Owner of a caring personality and a body to die for, [name] [surname] has conquered an assertive place in the industry as one of the highest paid models. You always wanted to pursue a career in modeling; living abroad and helping out your family as you climbed the social ladder with the main goal of rubbing shoulders with the most influential people. It seemed to you, like an amazing idea, and closer to obtain than you could ever imagine.

In this particular day, [name] was absolutely stoked about the new campaign ahead! She had been working out, taking care of her body and maintaining a healthy diet. Everything in her power to be as prepared as possible for the photoshoot, later in the day.

At this moment, Reika, your best friend and manager, is lecturing you about how everything is going to happen. Brand details; location; the campaign itself...you always loved to get ready for a photoshoot. The thrill of meeting a new team was different every time and the butterflies, anxiously flying inside your stomach were no different as well.

"So, Reika, can you please stop with all this secrecy thing and tell me about the campaign! I know it's a "couple's" photoshoot so...who'll be my pair??" your air quotes, paired with your disgusted expression and eye roll, made Reika laugh at the sight of you. She knew the time would come, when she would have to reveal it to you...she was hopeful your attitude about it would be professional. She knew how much you hated Kenji Sato.

"Sooo...you'reshootingthecampaignwithKenjiSatothat'sit" the manager's fast speech caught you off guard, [name] could tell the information Reika had for her wasn't gonna be to her liking and she was right.

"Can you stop joking around and just tell me, like a normal person?"

Sure, she could announce that information to you but Reika knew that, even though your job required professionalism and seriousness, you couldn't maintain those attributes when it came to working; interacting; or even talking with/to Kenji. Reika knew how you fell about him and, consequently, your reaction was deeply awaited by the woman in front of you.

"You're shooting the Calvin Klein campaign with Kenji Sato... — you open your eyes, as wide as you possibly can, Reika doesn't even let you start a sentence, immediately interrupting your train of thought — I know! You don't like him and even though, I'll never understand why...I feel obligated to tell you that this photoshoot is more important than anything else"

You muttered in utter disbelief, baffled by such a disrespectful decision made by the people surrounding you. Reika crosses your arms, looking at you and as she frowned, you stopped.

"Right, okay, fine! Let's do this shit! The sooner we launch the campaign, the faster I can get rid of that cocky player" your reply caught Reika off guard as she was expecting you to react obnoxious and childish. She smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it up and down, showing you some sort of support.

"That's the spirit! Now, get ready! We need to get going." her eye smile makes you relax a bit, reaffirming how calming of a personality Reika has and how it affects your mood.

Grabbing the keys to your convertible on top of the kitchen counter, you two leave the house, full of excitement and expectations about the important photoshoot ahead you. "Body" by Megan Thee Stallion blasted on the radio, listening to music was your way to get into the photoshoots and interviews. One of the instruments you adopted to feel yourself and hype, music! Oh, and what an amazing way to calm your nerves, always worked. You always made sure to show up to your events or shoots with some treats for the team, and this time was no different! You stayed up, baking the night away, but the little cupcakes tasted, not to brag, divine.

As you pull up to the studio, Reika helps with the cupcake boxes. The ambience smelled so delicious, who knew that, besides being the hottest model in the world, you could also dribble in the kitchen world. A box full of surprises.

The photographers were awaiting you, as you were the last one arriving at the studio. Seeing all those people looking at you made you feel somewhat uncomfortable, as your cheeks automatically gained a dusted shade of red. You are a model, but you hate being the center of attention, especially the wrong one.

"Hello [name], I'm Kaito Hamato, I'll be the director for this shoot. It's so nice to meet you. Behind you it's your fitting room, the clothes are organized accordingly so, whenever you're ready" his smile was patient, you could tell he was nice by the way he guided you to the fitting room. The moment you enter that room, everything clicked! You'd be wearing lingerie in the same vicinity as that cocky player who thinks everyone is obsessed with him. You hated that. Sure, you couldn't deny, he sure was nice to look at, but either way, your focus on your job was way bigger right now.

Sitting in front of the mirror with your eyes closed as the makeup artist finishes your makeup, you couldn't help but to feel another presence in the area. Could be a heavier presence, meaning, a male one. It was until you heard the squeak sound of the makeup chair a few inches from you, that you slowly opened your eyes, only to see THE Kenji Sato sitting next to you, getting his makeup nice and fresh again.

The slow eye roll you gave him, made him chuckle. That reaction of yours was always  automatic at the sight of him.

"Wow, I didn't even said a word! Is that the power I exude over you? I'm flattered" his sarcastic and overconfident tone was sending you through the roof, you couldn't help but to squeeze your hands as hard as you could, making them get a shade lighter, such was not your annoyance expression.

"You're a complete prick, I hope you know that" your disgusted semblant is noticeable for miles and miles, you promised Reika to be civil and respectful but...with such an idiot by your side, those promises are sort of impossible to keep.

"Prick, huh? Trying out a new nickname, are we?" Kenji slightly lifts his eyebrow, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek and looking at you for a hot minute. He won't even try to deny, he loves that game you two play. Still, he seems to not understand why the cold shoulders from your end, but how he loved to tease you. You were so easy for him to tease and make angry.

"Baby, you wish you had that much importance to me" the makeup artist gives you permission to get up from the chair, telling you to step into some other room to change outfits. The talk between you two ended as soon as you told Kenji you'd see him in a few minutes for the photoshoot.

In the makeup room, he runs his hands through his hair, shook by this interaction. It's not that he didn't want to have that intimacy with you, because believe me, he was thirsty for it.  But reaching you seemed too impossible, not even the most difficult women to conquer were as difficult as you have been.

When he received the campaign's proposal with you, he was thrilled, as he thought that, finally, he would have a chance to spend more time with you. Your encounters always seemed too fleeting for him, and he hated that.

"Mister Sato, [name] is ready to start shooting the campaign, we just need you, to start." Kaito informs, with the tender smile that characterizes him. Kenji nods and then gets up. His pecs, covered in oil for a wet look and the boxers that highlighted his body in a completely sensual way were all the directors needed to make sure the campaign was a success! Kenji was Japan's sweetheart after all, so would it be too soon to say, the campaign would be a worldwide phenomenon? I guess not.

"Is the princess ready?" your voice echoed in his ears, he was about to talk back at you when he completely froze. The body that stood in front of him, was also oiled up, highlighting your muscles and abs, as you crossed your arms the Calvin Klein bra made your breasts the center of attention. Seeing you like this drove Kenji wild, it was like he was seeing you in a different light, like a woman and not one of his one night conquests.

"Let's do this thing!" his absence of a comeback made you wonder what happened, he always had something to say and something to do in order to make you mad. You frowned but soon relaxed and agreed.

"So, this is a couple's campaign. I'll give you the directions, just follow them to the best of your abilities. [name] please, kneel in front of Kenji and straddle his legs. Make sure to lean forward."

While you're getting ready, one of the other photographers is helping Kenji out with his pose. He is seated with one leg bent and the other extended, holding your waist with one hand while his other hand rests on your thigh. You're are facing each other closely, foreheads touching, creating an intimate and affectionate moment. His cold hands make you instinctively shiver in contact with your warm skin. Your reaction caughts Kenji by surprise but it's pleasant to him, seeing you react to his touch.

Reika is happily observing the moment, feeling butterflies in her stomach and obsessing over your interaction with Kenji. She always thought you guys looked amazing together and when Calvin Klein reached out to her to discuss the next campaign, she was actually more excited about it than you.

"You smell really good" Kenji whispers, trying not to draw the photographer's attention as they're correcting your positions. You can't help to shyly smile as you hear his low voice next to your ear.

"T-thanks! You smell really nice as well" your voice sounded different than before. It was smoky, almost soft spoken, way different from the rough tone you used with Kenji earlier. Your cheeks, now painted a dusted coral shade, showed Kenji how comfortable you were with him. His broad smile, showing off his straight teeth could make you melt right there.

"Right kiddos, let's try another pose, this one was amazing. We're leaving for lunch after this one. I want to see something fun, out of the box. Kenji please use this chair, you sit on it and spread your legs. [name], you go sit at the edge on Kenji's knee."

You two do as you're told. However, you can't help but to add some details to the pose as you slightly bend down at the waist, leaning forward with your hands on the thighs. You're now dressed in the same grey lingerie and a denim jacket. Both of you can see the contentment in Kaito's face, his semblant was contagious.

Kenji's knee in contact with your pulsating cunt makes it hard for you to keep controlling your moans. He can feel this pose has some affects, as your pussy keeps getting warmer by the pose you guys are doing. Sato smirked and decided to add his own twist on the pose, grabbing your hair making you face the ceiling as your hands automatically go behind your back, holding onto his thighs. The photographers watching could feel the heat of the moment surrounding the studio, Kaito was living for every second of the photoshoot, he could see the billboards; the money; even more fame for the both of you; it was all coming together.

"Perfect! I can see this campaign will be grand guys. We'll have a lunch break now, feel free to change Kenji and [name]. See you in 40 minutes."

While the team prepared to head out for lunch, Kenji and you completely desfigured the pose you were in, relaxing a bit and heading off to each other's fitting rooms. Your heartbeat was increasing it's pace, you thought it might explode! Suddenly, he didn't piss you off that much? It was weird to think but, having in consideration the state he left your pussy during that fucking pose, it was appropriate to claim he left your heart skipping a beat.

It was just you and Kenji in that studio, he was in his fitting room and you in yours. For some odd reason, his shoulders and back hadn't left your mind, it's like those attributes of his were glued to your memory and refused to leave.

"Did I turned you on that much?" you froze, causing a huge vibration to run through your body, almost causing your trembling legs to collapse right there. Looking in the mirror in front of you, Kenji was pervertedly checking you out, measuring every inch of your almost naked body. His side smirk just caused you to feel even warmer for him.

"D-dont, don't know what you're talking about" The undeniable shake in your voice was everything Kenji needed to hear before turning you around to face him. Your face in between his long fingers as he squeezed those soft cheeks of yours, he loved when you had to look up at him and he loved putting his strength upon you, so those pretty eyes of yours would become teary.

"C'mon baby, I felt it! That warm pussy of yours gave you away"

As he kept squeezing your face in between his fingers, his other hand made a sinful path from your breasts, down to your stomach, reaching the soft material of your underwear. He'd look down and up, seeing you widen your eyes at his bold attitude. His cold hand, making it inside your underwear, touching your pussy, made you whimper and close your legs as the cold impact sent you shivers up your spine. Your hand, griping onto Kenji's forearm, would be filled with nail digging marks. The stimulation felt good and all but you needed freedom to talk to him when the moment required you to.

"Don't be so full of yourself Kenji" your words came out with some difficulty, that muffled voice of yours, by the position your mouth was in was making you anxious. You wanted to use your words as clearly as possible, without shaking or revealing any weakness, but how could you? Kenji was driving you crazy.

"You've been playing hard to get ever since you arrived, darling" Kenji slowly releases your face, caressing your cheek as a final contact. Your eyes meet, staring at each other, communicating everything you wish to say in words during your eye contact.

"I don't think I'm gonna last that long if you keep teasing me like that" your voice was needy, your entire body craved his touch. Surprise clouded his features, as Kenji's cat eye looking eyes darkened in pure desire.

"Always so impatient, beautiful? I can work with that." He remarked, guiding you towards the fitting room's couch, laying you down gently.

Kenji can't resist to pinning you down, placing each arm on each side of your shoulders and opening your legs with the help of his knee, positioning his leg in the middle of your bottom limbs. Your impatient whimpers make Kenji smile in satisfaction at the effect he has on you. The female body underneath Kenji, trembling at his invested knee contact against the thin fabric of her panties.

"Please...I beg you Kenji, fuck me" you desperately gasped at Kenji's touch against the fabric of your panties, almost begging him to tear them off your body.

"You sound so good using that pretty mouth of yours to beg for it. I'll make sure you have a great time" his lips get stuck like glue to your neck, you could mentally count the kisses and melt at the same time. Your nails, scratching his nape made him go wild, he couldn't control himself anymore, Sato needed you.

With one fast move, your panties are long, ripped apart, forgotten in some corner. You open your eyes in surprise, feeling thrilled at the moment. As your faces drew closer, the world around them seemed to fade away. His lips were soft and inviting, a perfect match for the warmth of your own. Their breaths mingled, a sensual and needed dance of anticipation and desire. A tentative brush that sent shivers down their spines, growing deeper and more urgent as you two surrender to the moment. Your tongues, working in unison to create a hot environment, you both needed each other.

"O-oh my...God! I can't- please- fuck me-" You said in between the kiss, your hand gently reaching the waistband of Kenji's boxers, feeling his pulsating cock in the palm of your warm hand. He grunts as soon your hand touches his member in despair.

He stands up quickly, Kenji's boxers already around his ankles. His massive cock makes you gag in shock by the size of it. Precum already sliding down his swollen tip, making you salivate.

As you're admiring his full body, you feel in your mind the need to sit down on the couch, opening your legs to him. The bralette is long gone as well, revealing that amazing set of tits of yours.

"Sit on my face, I want to taste you" Kenji walks towards you, laying down on the couch. He bites his bottom lip, seeing you get close to his face. Each leg of yours on each side of Kenji's head, his warm breath in contact with your clit makes you shiver. He pushes you down, grabbing onto your thighs, squeezing them tightly and aggressively. Your loud and startled moan echoes in the fitting room, his wet tongue drawing circles around your clit makes you reach out for his hair, grabbing onto it. With one hand on Kenji's locks, the other one is free to start masturbating the man underneath you.

The man's vibrating whimpers make you ride his face as you feel your pussy getting wetter and wetter. His cock is too big in comparison with your hand, that keeps stroking the full extension of his pulsating member. He was looking at you, riding his face without mercy, like a life size dildo, he was enjoying it so much.

"FUCK- I'm- gonna come" you thirsted your hips back and forth, riding Sato's face faster as you start feeling a buildup of pleasure, the tension accumulating in the lower region of your stomach was an indicator of the orgasm ahead.

His tongue movements increased rapidly, he wanted to provide you with the most intense orgasms.

As you're feeling contractions in your genital area, accompanied by involuntary muscle spasms, a sense of euphoria feels your body. You can almost hear your hear beat increase abruptly as you reach your climax. Can't help but to smear your cum all over Kenji's face who, satisfyingly smiles seeing how much he made you cum.

"Lay down gorgeous, I'll make you cum again...but now, on my dick"

With a fast and simple move, for Kenji, he switches positions, getting on top of you. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his wet hardness against your needy opening, begging to be ravished by Kenji's hard wood.

All this teasing got your body going into a frenzy, as he pushed his cock inside you, you pushed him closer by hugging him. Your lips went directly into Kenji's neck, biting it and sucking on it, suppressing your gasp as your pussy was getting stretched by the extension of Sato's dick.

Kenji's manhood, hitting your g-spot several times made you dig your nails through his entire back. He was loving the way your body was reacting to being fucked by him, your eyes, getting blood shot from all the pleasure and all the heat was unbearable for him to watch without wanting to destroy you.

"My dear Lord, you're so mesmerizing like this, I could get used to fucking you every day" Every word, every stroke, every moan was a demonstration of how much the both of you were enjoying each other's bodies.

You put your wrist on your mouth, biting down onto it, you're grasping for air at this point! Feeling your neck tense up, hurting so hard that it's good. Kenji's blood flow on his genitalia was building up, indicating an orgasm. He feels his heart rate, muscles and neck tense as your pussy walls make it hard for him to escape your insides. Both of you are going to come, sooner or later.

"You're- that- fuck...that pussy of yours...so addictive...I'm gonna cum baby" His face, now facing the ceiling, reveals to you, his climax is near, as well as yours.

"Me to-too daddy...cum inside me...p-please cum inside my pussy" Your voice sounded desperate, you needed this, completion for both of you was near and you couldn't stop thinking about his warm cum dripping from the inside of your needy cunt.

You arch your back and squeeze your tits as your eyes seem to go crazy, going into the back of your head. Kenji on the other hand, pushes one hand down on your stomach, feeling his huge cock inside your body and it makes him go feral. By instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist, making it impossible to escape your embrace and carve nonsense lines with your nails all over his back. You two were coming in tune, each other's cum getting mixed up inside you felt so good.

"You're such a good girl!" He says, a little out of breath, while removing his cock from your inside your pussy, admiring how much cum is dripping onto the couch.

"And you're a sex god!" You smile, stealing a passionate kiss from him. Your body felt totally different, lighter, almost like you were getting drunk off the smell of sex hovering everywhere in the fitting room.

"Kenji? [name]? Are you guys in there? Let's continue on with our photoshoot!" Kaito's voice was heard from the outside of the fitting room. The two adults inside got up, eyes widened. Analyzing the room would give the impression an hurricane went by and destroyed everything (and everyone! *wink wink*)

"We. Are. Fucked."

Both of you said in unison. You guys were in fact, fucked!

[balteredsworld]

wilson’s hypothesis. gregory house

🥼🩺 | according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.

masterlist: greg house n all

warnings/tags! fluff of sorts, angst if you squint, talks of self-sabotage, idiots in love, sherlocked reference!!! (just watched 8x18—house self-sabotages so bad my lord)

author's note: lowkey hate this but it's idk what're we thinking fellow ducklings???

"wilson thinks i like you," house airs.

you throw him a strange glance.

"crazy, right?"

"yeah? and you think i like cameron," you mimic, matching his dismissive detachment to comedic effect.

only, house is serious.

“no, wilson thinks i like you.” house ignores your joke, repeating wilson’s solemn hypothesis.

when you pause to look at his face, your mind goes off into complete nonsense like's just tipped you over and left you with internal bleeding in your brain, upon the realization that he does, in fact, mean those words he's telling you.

"what makes him say that?"

"i'm apparently connecting with you,” house indulges, relaxing into the cold bit of wall behind him. the moonlight hits him in a more subtle way, half hidden in the shadows. the blue of his wrinkled shirt melts into the glow it radiates.

you're not particularly sure what to say. thankfully, he elaborates.

“you share your food with me, i take your food, ergo it means something in wilson's romantic world,” house offers, before quickly dismissing the thought of his supposed feelings for you. "but you know wilson, he's always been a romantic. thinks he can diagnose emotions as easily as diseases."

you consider the argument, "well couldn't that just mean i can't finish my food and you don't wanna get your own?"

he squints at you, as if with drills for eyes. you're playing dumb, unless you really believe that. but you don't.

you clear your throat, "well, do you believe that?"

"well it's either that or i must obviously like you."

you gawk. "well, do you?"

"do i have to spell it out for you?"

"wilson had to," you snark back. "so, do you?"

"no," he says with a flat face.

something in your chest drops, just as your brows shoot up. "no?"

"no," he reaffirms.

you don't know if you manage to catch your frown. house doesn't say anything if you didn't. you're more than a little embarrassed, surely flushed. you're thankful that the two of you are under the dim veil of night.

"well good thing," you grumble.

house looks at you with a curious look, as if he was almost offended you would say that. "good thing?"

“we’re both lonely. lonely means self-sabotage,” you explain, fiddling with one of the main trinkets that line the ledge. you were sure you proving your point, coming up with an off-putting rationale to cover up your embarrassment. "two self-saboteurs, well, that's an equation with proven unresolved issues... so yeah, good thing."

you were internally cringing at the words you were spitting out, but you were trying to play it cool. it's something that's never worked in your favour though when you were near an attractive guy, and you always swore this was to make them repulse the inkling of interest. and you swore off doing this years ago, but the blunt rejection, if you could call it that, sprung the teenager out of you.

then again, house affects you like that. blue eyes and blue shirt and all.

he makes it no secret that he's a ladies' man, often hitching hookers into the hospital despite cuddy's gentle parenting to make him stop. but house does whatever he wants in the hospital, hence all the lawsuits you've had to deal with.

when you look at him again, he's somehow uncharacteristically quiet. you're unsure if his speculative eyes are because of a lightbulb moment, but one thing's for sure: he was thinking.

"you're thinking, aren't you?" you glean in a tilt.

house doesn't say anything, but turns away from you. when he does, you're unsure if you see his lip curl in disappointment—he hides it too well. some part of you hopes, but you know you're not his type. a bit too much like him in the overanalyzing and overthinking.

and maybe you're convincing yourself, but realistically speaking, your happy arrangement of sharing food in the middle of a hospital shift may work for lonely and misery, but not for anything else. two people who like self-sabotage is like a dumpster fire.

you'd rather have house like this, happy and alarmingly blue.

"aaand you've stopped listening. i shall take that as my cue to leave," you announce, hopping off the ledge in the same ginger fashion you had waltzing in.

when you land your feet, house airs his deduction, nodding along as if he was finally making sense of you and wilson’s hypothesis. 

“maybe he’s onto something.”

you turn to him with a tinge of a worrisome brow. 

“who knows? maybe i’ve been sending subtle signals that even i’m not aware of. so what do you think?” he croons his head, all ominous, arriving to a conclusion. you can practically see the cogs turn in his brain. “you like me.”

"i never said that.”

house looks at you, rising in a smooth motion, as if to showcase his towering height, forcing you to look up at him. sitting down, he's not so large, but now, all you can think is that he's tall.

"you might not, but your body does," he croons, dangerous smirk playing about his face. his eyes probe your face, confidently with a proven theory. "pupils dilated..."

house grabs your wrist, eyes practically lighting up in delight at his impending diagnosis.

"…and pulse elevated. i understand that wilson thinks that love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry's incredibly simple," he says, softening his grip on you.

house doesn't let go, lingering in this proximity, leaning closer like some ghost and spirit you'll always look for. your breath hitches, but house doesn't afford you time to quite think, capturing your lips in a kiss that you reciprocate, clutching onto his arms for balance.

you feel one of his hand snake to the nook of your back, pushing you flush against him. house keeps his other hand cupping your cheek and jaw, large enough to cover that expanse of your face. it's a little dry and rough, but you don't mind, all too preoccupied with his lips.

house makes good work on you. his lips are even better than you'd imagine, but you finally register his words and what you were doing, so you pull away. the furrow of your brows returning, apprehensive about his next words.

you whisper, “i thought you didn't like me.”

"i was lying," he shrugs. "i needed to see if i was right, and i was."

"so you figured me out?"

"you like me,” house concludes, triumphant. “i was right.”

“i thought this was wilson’s hypothesis?” you cock a brow.

“hypothesis,” he nods before flicking your head. “but i can’t give him the credit for my diagnosis.”

you let out an airy laugh, relieved that he didn't make you spell it out for him. "you're an ass, you know?"

his eyes are proudly heralding trumpets. you could practically hear the victory going off them.

"it comes with the sitting arrangement."

[earthtooz]

hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3

gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!

“where is our couch?”

gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.

“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.

that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.

and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.

“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull. 

“is it not in the living room?”

he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.

“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”

the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”

“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps. 

instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.

he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”

you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.

“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”

you sigh, “yes.”

“i warped it somewhere.”

“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”

“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”

that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye. 

“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz. 

“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”

“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.” 

his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”

before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind. 

rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.

“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.

“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”

“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”

“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”

you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”

“-then i’ll warp her house.”

“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”

“so you think i’m impressive?”

“gojo.”

“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”

you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.” 

“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 

you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you. 

“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill. 

your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.

he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.” 

gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.

his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done. 

even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade. 

as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you. 

it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”

“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”

[rarepears]

A nearby country just had a new monarch ascend the throne. Cang Qiong, as was the norm, was invited to pay their respects to the new monarch, reaffirm the standing alliance between cultivators and mortals (which pretty much boiled down to cultivators kill evil things, mortals stay out of cultivation affairs plus some trade agreements), and ensure that the previous monarch's soul wasn't still lurking around the palace as a ghost. You know, the standard stuff.

So Yue Qingyuan didn't think much when he sent the usual delegation of Shen Qingqiu (to handle the political negotiation and come back with observations of the new Emperor), Shang Qinghua (trade agreements), and Qi Qingqi (to talk with the court ladies and government official wives for the gossip).

The last thing he expected was for the new Emperor to recognize Shen Jiu as the little brother who went missing when the previous Emperor - the new Emperor's paternal uncle, from what Yue Qingyuan understood - undertook a military coup to secure the throne.

---

When Shen Yuan finally killed his super fucking evil tyrant uncle who had been sending a million assassins after Shen Yuan and his (unfortunately now dead) brothers, he got saddled with the throne. He knew that was going to happen! It was something he wasn't asking for, but it was either regain the throne or let his uncle finally succeed in killing him, the rightful Emperor, off. It was pretty shitty that his first month in this new world involved surviving a military coup in the palace where his new dad was murdered by his new uncle for the throne. If Shen Yuan thought being transmigrated into a body that drowned in the pond because of some harem politics for the crown prince position was bad, well, his life got a whole lot fucking worse.

But things were over. He was crowned emperor, had a million super tight best friends all high up in his government backing him, and even the cultivators were recognizing his reign as the legit one, so he was all fine.

Right??

NO! Because why the fuck was he just realizing now that his second life was actually taking place in PIDW and why the fuck was that Shen Qingqiu and the Cang Qiong delegation??? Like, he was busy living on the streets and plotting to retake the throne, sure, but how could he had missed that Cang Qiong was that Cang Qiong!?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where in the PIDW plot line was he in now? How far along is Shen Qingqiu busy torturing the protagonist and how much longer does Shen Yuan even have to rule his country before the protagonist comes to conquer? How the fuck is he going to stop the plot from continuing - how is he going to remove Shen Qingqiu from the plot?

Shen Yuan isn't proud to admit it, but he rolls with the first shitty idea that pops into his head.

He claims that Shen Qingqiu is his missing younger brother - he had like three dozen of them to be honest, his second life's dad was one horny motherfucker - and tries to keep Shen Qingqiu from going back to Cang Qiong under all sorts of familial pretenses.

Shen Yuan is sure that Cang Qiong is merely humoring his insanity by letting Shen Qingqiu go along with it all, having "family dinners" and making small talk while being careful to skirt around any true political talk, but his plan hasn't backfired on him yet.

YET.

He's sitting on this ticking timebomb and Shen Yuan might be in his 40s but he still feels like the same stupid 20 something year old writing 5k word diss reviews on PIDW chapters some days. If only he had a system to help guide him out of his own mess.

(Meanwhile Shen Jiu: I HAVE AN OLDER BROTHER WHO LOVES ME???? but I'm still sus about his motives. I will reluctantly allow him to shower me in presents and praises and spend time with him to investigate more.)

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

The only relationship I've watched in anime that has absolutely convinced me that big age gaps can work out romantically is the one between Barnaby Brooks Jr and Kotetsu T Kaburagi in Tiger and Bunny.

12 years age gap. Barnaby is 23 and Kotetsu is 35. They're literally the newest rookie and the oldest veteran in the hero scene. And you can say "they are not canon" as if the creators hadn't gone out of their way to state that they pretty much don't care how you interpret it, a romantic reading of their relationship is as valid as anything else.

Their respect for each other? Their partnership? They're both treated as grown ass men on the same level.

Somehow Kotetsu can call Barnaby a "cute little bunny" and still he never reduces Barnaby to a naive child who doesn't know a thing about life. Kotetsu treats Barnaby like a man, a professional. He never infantilizes Barnaby for his trauma or his past. He helped Bunny as much as he can, goes beyond his limits to help him reaffirm himself and recover his independence. Kotetsu wants Barnaby to be respected, to not feel powerless, helpless, he wants his partner to stop being manipulated. Bunny's whole arc is that he wants to stop having decisions made for him!!!! Kotetsu knows it!!

On the other hand, Barnaby jokes all the time that Kotetsu is old, calls him grampa, that he should retire, the complete dance. Yet, Barnaby has never seen Kotetsu as a father figure. Kotetsu is Bunny's hero partner, not his superior. Thanks to Kotetsu's respectful treatment, they're friends. Hell, Bunny treats Kotetsu like a man. He doesn't pity Kotetsu for having lost his wife. He doesn't treat Kotetsu any differently when he meets Kaede, Kotetsu's daughter. There are moments when you forget the age gap because the story focuses on them being equals!!! They can take care of each other, they can share their burdens, they talk it out if they are frustrated, they communicate with full responsibility, etc etc etc.

Normally I don't like big age gaps at all. It's more of a personal preference, since those dynamics make me uncomfortable.

Kotetsu and Barnaby are the exception and the standard. God bless the Tiger and Bunny creators.

* also it has some of the best treatments of a teen girl having a crush on an older man I've ever seen. It's nothing predatory 'cause Kotetsu completely respects Karina and never takes advantage of her, also completely healthy because Karina uses that to sort out her teenage conflicts and figure out how she wants to be treated, how she deserves to be treated, what he's looking for in a relationship, how older people should approach her, etc.

Kotetsu is a gentleman through and through. An absolute must watch if you want to learn how to write those types of characters and relationships.

[thebluester2020]

[TWST] "Free" Lodging At SavanaClaw

Summary: After being kicked out from Ramshackle Dorm, you swallowed your pride and decided to go to SavanaClaw to try and convince the local Housewarden to let you stay until you found a way to get Ramshackle back. But, as nothing was ever free in your former world, the same rules apply here! Warning(s): Leona being a dick but that's the normal, Dub-con(kinda-ish?), Manipulation, Leona refers to the reader as "lioness" instead of "herbivore" (This reader has an attitude y'all, buckle up), Gender neutral pronouns (Reader is heavily implied to be a girl though), Edging(?), No active sex in this one just Leona feeling the reader up basically, Consent check-ups. Side Note(s): This may be the most inaccurate fanfic I'll write to date since I'm just now getting back into the TWST fandom 💀. But I vaguely remember (I think?) the MC getting kicked out from their dorm and having to shack up with Leona for a bit so I'm running off "You want something? What're you willing to do for it?" type of energy. Also, I will add to the idea that Leona drinks his "respect women" juice, so be prepared for those consent check-ups.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

"...So, that's why I need to stay here..."

Never once in your life had you felt so small, so...insignificant as you stood in front of Leona's dorm room, after pouring your heart out about your situation and how you had no place to stay after making a shady deal with Azul. To be in a position of begging, pleading with to have a place to stay. You didn't know who to curse out first!

Crowley for not getting you back to your original world fast enough.

Azul for tricking you in the first place into making a shady deal.

Or maybe even yourself, for being so foolish in the first place as to think that there wouldn't be a backhanded price for losing a bet with Azul to begin with! And what's more? You still felt you weren't thinking straight, after all, instead of thinking that it was best to shack up with Ace and Deuce, your feet instead led you to Leona.

The arrogant prince who looked as if he were completely apathetic to your situation as if your very presence outside of his dorm room was an utter annoyance. And to hold yourself accountable? It probably was. No one wants to share their room after all, especially when the person in question had no clue when their new potential guest would be leaving.

But at the same time? It wasn't like you wanted to be begging either!

"Hm," Was the first noise that Leona made as his tail flicked side to side, scratching his chin. "What do I get out of lettin' you stay 'ere?" The beastman couldn't help the smirk that graced his already handsome features as an immediate furious expression took over your face.

"What the hell do you mean 'What do I get out of it'?!" You said in a mocking imitation of the prince's voice.

Leona then frowned before yawning. "Well now...that's no way to speak to someone you're asking to live with—" Before he could close the door, you quickly stopped it with your hand before you huffed. You took a brief moment to gather yourself, to suck in your pride and reaffirm in your head that there were no other options, no other people you could think willing enough to bend (or flat out ignore) the rules and let you stay in their dorm room for a little while.

Once done, you exhale through your nose before sighing. "What...do you want?"

The prince smirked, now you were playing his game.

Leona wasn't blind.

Despite the two of you not being on the very best of terms, constantly bickering whenever you both saw one another and having an unspoken rivalry of sorts. Be it in some of your classes together, who had the most biting words that day, or even you two simply getting in the way of each other! You two didn't like each other except...

Leona somewhat liked you. Enough to where he periodically had lustful thoughts about you from time to time that is. As he continued to think to himself, he thought about how great it would be to first have the only girl at this school. To make you his own personal toy, not that it would be an easy battle that is.

You'd ultimately call the shots, and he would simply have to keep your attention.

Something that he would easily achieve. "For me being so gracious to allow you to even think of staying in my dorm—" Your eyes widened a little when the prince leaned forward a little. And oh...how you hated how he smelled so good, expensive cologne mixed with a distinct wild smell that you couldn't pinpoint. But, you tried to keep your head afloat, the last thing you could afford was to allow your mind to be clouded.

You absolutely refused it.

"—how about you service me?" You visibly flinched at the idea.

"...You're not talking about an innocent back massage, are you?"

His silence was your answer.

And you hated to admit that the idea appealed to you, even if it was just slightly. Never once had you thought that the prince was ugly. Maybe in personality, sure but looks-wise? He was very attractive, as princely as the definition came, but to sleep with him? Just for a place to stay? She didn't know if she could convince herself to do that!

"What if I say no?" You mumbled.

He responded with a shrug. "Then I won't pressure you. I'm not so cruel as to let a woman roam around at night with no place to go." He said with a deep purr that made your very body reverberate. "But, something tells me that you won't say no."

You sighed, looking away for a moment before looking back up at him.

Although you didn't give him a verbal response, the prince saw your answer as clear as day in your eyes and thus, moved to the side to allow you into his room to which you immediately started to look around, only offering Leona a scoff once you finished your visual tour of where you'd be staying for some time until you came up with a plan to get Ramshackle back.

"Your room is messy." You said, eliciting a 'tsk' from the prince as he closed his door and stood back, giving you room to overlook his room.

"I take it this is a more than adequate place for you to sleep?" He questioned.

You nodded your head. "I can just sleep on the floor—"

"You'll sleep on the bed," He sighed, walking past you. "If you're sensitive about sleeping so close to a man then put a pillow between us. I'm not moving from my own bed."

You rolled your eyes with an annoyed grumble. "I'm not trying to kick you from your bed, nor am I sensitive about sleeping next to a man!"

Leona merely rolled his eyes as he strolled up to you before placing a hand on your shoulder, and he smirked at how you flinched as he slowly stalked around you until he stood behind you. The smell of your nervousness was clear, and even if his nose didn't function. His ears definitely picked up on it, from your squeaks each time he moved or the way you shuffled around.

Although he would never say it out loud...with how pretty you were, he assumed you to be more than familiar with the touch of a man.

Clearly, though, his assumptions were incorrect.

"So nervous lioness...never thought I'd see the day." He chuckled.

"S-Shut up," You hissed in response. "Just get this over with..."

Leona's brow rose. "I'm not into taking advantage of women. If you're not comfortable with me touching you then tell me." When you looked over your shoulder, his breath hitched at the sight of how fast the blood rushed to his cock. The arousing sight of you looking up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes darkened ever so slightly from growing lust. It was driving him insane.

"I need verbal responses," Leona's snapped you from your thoughts. "Can I touch you? I won't go any farther than that." He said, his hand still planted firmly on your shoulder to accentuate his point that he wouldn't make any sudden movements unless you said so.

You nodded your head. "S-Sure..."

At your consent, he was meticulous about where he touched.

First, he started with your arms, rubbing his hands up and down as he silently committed the feeling to memory. Smooth, almost...doughy in a way. And some parts of your skin were freckled as well. 'Cute.' He thought before he moved over to touch your backside. He ignored the whisper in his head that told him to teasingly slip a finger underneath a sleeve or perhaps underneath your skirt, instead, his tail flicked at the feeling of your curves.

And when he trailed his way back up to your shoulder, he poked at the back of your neck with his claw.

You squeaked at the contact. "So jumpy."

"Fuck you," He snorted in response. "Are curses all you have to say to me? If I'm observing you correctly—" You sucked in a breath when Leona's hands trailed over to your chest, touching at prodding at your mounds while he steadily got closer and closer to you until he was pressed up against your backside and...you felt his hard-on against your ass.

A shaky sigh left your lips. "So soft..." He whispered in your ear. "Bet they're even softer without these clothes."

"Stop being crude." You panted out.

The prince smirked. "Did you know us beastmans have enhanced senses?" He asked, changing the subject as he licked up the shell of your ear, tearing a shakey moan from you as you started to unconsciously buck up against the prince's hard-on, causing him to groan at the contact but nonetheless continue speaking and feeling you up. "I can smell your arousal, how needy you are for me despite trying to hide it."

"T-That's not—Ahh..."

Now this was something he would love to hear every single day.

Those breathless shy moans of yours, coupled with the sight of you unconsciously bucking into his hard-on and making it near irresistible to ask you if the two of you could go farther than this. If you'd allow him to taste you next, finger your cute pussy, or perhaps fuck you. But...he wasn't about to let you slip through his fingers just because he couldn't control his urges.

"L-Leona...fuck—"

"What is it?" He purred against your ear. "Want me to touch you somewhere else...?"

You sucked your bottom lip in, your panties were absolutely soaked as you continued to squirm against Leona's hold. Your control was slipping fast, you didn't know how long you'd be able to hold on before you'd say something you knew you would regret later on! And there were too many times when you wanted to ask him to stop, slow down, and let you catch your breath, anything! But...as Leona's hands began to untuck your shirt from your skirt and slide his hands up and underneath, the tickle from his claws dragged slowly upward toward your breasts making you buckle and flinch.

You broke.

Hard.

"P-Please..." You didn't know what you were begging for exactly but, the small word made the lion beastman's ears perk all the same before he snickered.

"A simple please doesn't get a prince to do what you want, be more specific."

"Y-You fucker—" You inhaled sharply when Leona gently pinched your nipples, silencing you effectively as a smirk crept onto his handsome features.

"What was that?" He asked.

You took another breath in and exhaled out shakily before you gulped. "D-Down there...please."

"What? Your pussy? Is it aching for my touch?" He asked with a devilish smirk as you nodded your head, even going so far as to try and press your ass into his crotch further. Cruelly, however, Leona forcefully stopped you with a quick yet light swat against the side of your thigh. "Then ask me like you're begging a royal. Do it or you'll have to settle. C'mon...you can do it."

You looked at the beastman over your shoulder once more, your eyes clouded over with lust whilst your lips were shiny and wet from you constantly licking your lips. "...P-Prince Leona," You started. "C-Can you touch me...there my pussy..."

Leona nearly grinned ear-to-ear from his victory before he sighed. "I would but—" Your eyes widened in confusion immediately when Leona slipped his hands from me, your form shaking as if you were left suddenly in the cold as the lion beastman walked to the other side of his room to grab his bag. "—I have class, Ruggie will chew my ear off if I miss this class for the fifth time this month."

You swore that you saw red at that moment. "Y-You fucker...y-you did that on purpose!" You screamed.

"What? To ask you to ask me something nicely?"

"You—"

"Calm down," He clicked his tongue. "You live with me now, remember? I'll touch your needy cunt when I get back." He said, flicking you in the forehead before he turned to walk out the door, leaving you to stand there in both shock and frustration.

You really needed to find a way to get Ramshackle back.

Fast.

[munariplans]

36 hours | natasha romanoff

synopsis: set between civil war and black widow, your love for natasha, and her patience for your return, is tested beyond what the both of you had ever gone through before.

natasha romanoff x spider!reader

word count: 3.9k words

a/n: this is a bit messy but i felt the need to draw a general timeline for the characters of is there someone else? and your sweater. i admit i have grown a sort of attachment for the two from there, but i also wanted to know if you guys want more stories / blurbs / headcannons for these two, or whether i should try new things. let me know?

masterlist

36 hours. 36 hours to bring in a known fugitive, a possible terrorist, and his dear accomplice steve rogers. it was barely enough time. 

and here tony was, making you wait outside of a window of an apartment in queens, waiting for the perfect time to, in his words, swing in and show the kid what he’s made of. you remembered telling him that you would show him what you were made of if he didn’t make it quick. 

you dared to sneak a look into the bedroom the moment tony managed to sneak the kid away. he was barely fifteen. but the impressive speed that he caught his jumbled, homemade suit with when tony opened the attic door showed skill no normal fifteen year old possessed. 

“you’re spider-boy?” 

“...spider-man.” the boy replied, and at tony’s snap of his fingers, you slipped in, standing behind him for support as the boy gawked at your entrance. 

“mm,” tony remarked, “this is our spider. you see her in a onesie like yours?”

the boy took time to rake his eyes through your advanced technical suit, crafted through years of precision and “user”-testing in the fights and missions you had managed to get injured from. every flaw was covered, every inch of space for injury accounted for. 

you looked past tony to the video of the boy saving a car from crashing onto a bus, before swinging away at lightning speed. “how’d you figure out the perfect formula for the tensile strength?”

“i…”

“i like the goggles too,” you snatched the suit away from tony’s amused smirk, “good attempt at keeping the focus. sensory overload, right?”

the boy nodded. “you’re just like me. you get me.”

“i get you.” you replied, “but you’re in dire need of an upgrade.”

you stepped back this time, and watched as tony began his over-explanation, oversimplification, of the situation at hand. the kid watched with wide eyes, clinging on to every word he said, while you rubbed the material of his homemade suit between your fingers, wondering how you were going to teach him every single upgrade and function of the new suit you had designed just for him in 36 hours. 

36 hours to capturing steve and bucky, and 36 hours to fixing things with natasha. 

you couldn’t wait. 

-

“i still think tony’s going a little overboard,” natasha muttered to you, arms crossed at the back of the quinjet. 

you approached, the low hum of the jet preventing you from hearing her clearly earlier. she continued, “he’s ridden with guilt. he’s not thinking clearly.”

“but he’s still right.” you sat next to her, the atmosphere tense. you had been having this argument even since the idea had popped into tony’s head. “and you’re still here.”

“because i think the other side is more mistaken, not because he’s right.”

“steve is the one going overboard. he’s blinded by the love he has for his friend.” 

“...weren’t you blinded by love before?” natasha accused, “for me, all those years ago?”

you were stunned for a moment. natasha knew she made a valid point. but then, you reaffirmed, “it’s different. steve made a mistake, we shouldn’t be the ones deciding who lives and who dies. i should’ve forced him to sign the accords when i had the chance.” 

the sight of the airport drew nearer and nearer. in front of you, you saw peter fidget nervously in his new upgraded suit. 

–

you were wrapping webs round and round the suddenly enlarged ant-man, one of his hands gripping rhodey. with an agreement for peter to strike ant-man’s legs, the giant soon fell to his knees with his entire lower half webbed, groaning when the war machine broke free from his hold. 

in your peripheral vision, you saw natasha running after steve and bucky, her words ringing in your mind as you instructed peter to finish off ant-man from getting back up again. a thumbs-up was sent his way when he did, the smile on his face reaching his ears. 

weren't you blinded by love before? 

you hoped she would do the right thing, as you returned your attention to helping tony take down wanda and clint.

but even as you fought, her words kept coming back to your head, and by the time steve and bucky were mere seconds away from the quinjet, you made up your mind to zip to natasha to check in on her. 

weren’t you blinded by love before?

you watched in horror as she stunned the black panther, him spasming and dropping to his knees. you watched with even more horror as she let the fugitives go, steve helping bucky climb into the quinjet and starting the engine. when steve shut the latch of the jet, he made eye contact with you hanging off the hangar, and nodded in thanks. he knew you were letting him go, too. 

mostly, you were even more horrified at your automatic reaction to catch t’challa from lunging at her, forcing him to the ground as his claws barely missed her face. in consequence, his own claws tore through your suit instead, the vibranium stronger than the nano-technology defences you had designed the suit with. 

you seethed in pain as the claws came back doused with blood, the burning on your back sure to leave a definite scar as it hit the cold air. 

you struck a web to his face, before throwing him off of you and quickly webbing him to the wall of the hangar. 

natasha felt your hands shaking her just moments later, still in shock that you had jumped in to help, and save her. 

“the webs are not going to hold him for long, nat,” you said when her eyes managed to refocus on you, “and you just obstructed justice. you need to go, now.” 

“i…i couldn’t let them…” she stuttered. 

“i know, i know,” you assured her. behind you, t’challa was breaking loose. “i’ll stay here and explain everything to them. but you need to run, and hide, for a while. tony told me he was planning to send anyone helping them to the raft. i can’t let you go there.” 

“what about you?” her hands tried to stop the blood seeping through her fingers from your back, but you were firm. 

“i’ll be okay. i’ll come find you after i’ve settled everything here and it’s safe for you to come back.”

“promise…?” natasha knew you were right, but her heart was saying otherwise. how could she possibly bear to leave you behind and deal with her consequences? how could she go anywhere without you by her side? how would she know you’ll come find her again?

“i promise. i love you.” you left room for no argument. 

she was gone by the time the black panther broke free, the ghost of the feeling of her lips against yours still replaying in your mind. 

–

ross’ face was possibly on the verge of exploding, listening to tony’s recounting of events and your, arguably non-convincing reasoning, of why chasing natasha would be a fool’s errand. 

“her hand slipped. she was supposed to stun bucky, hit t’challa.”

“that’s not what t’challa said. and that’s why you’re handcuffed to the table now.” ross called through your bluff, “you’re lucky you’re not sitting in a cell in the raft at all.” 

the chains against your handcuff clinked the table as you sighed, waiting for your own course of beration and punishment from the team.

somewhere out there, you hoped natasha was safe, and that she had successfully escaped ross’ team sent out to arrest her. 

– 

years ago, a few nights after you and natasha had made your relationship official, she had asked you where you would live, if you could live anywhere in the world. 

“norway,” you replied. 

“why?”

“i don’t know. seems like a nice place to be. it’s calm, quiet, relatively crime-free.”

“then you would be out of a job, you know?” natasha teased, her heart skipping a beat as you let out a laugh. 

“i’ll find something else,” you assured her, “i’ll survive.” 

you turned to her then, prompting the same question she had asked you. she had replied, “anywhere with you.” 

– 

now, you were currently hinging on the sole fact that all roads and clues pointed you to her being in norway. 

it had been six months since the events of the team’s civil war, a week since you had begun using a fake passport to get on flights, and three hours since you have been driving along the gravel road where her trailer was supposed to be. 

truth be told, you were nervous. you were afraid of natasha’s safety, and you worried whether she was blaming herself for losing the family she had grown to love in the past few years. and selfishly, you were mostly nervous if she had forgotten you and started a new life altogether. 

but natasha no longer lived in the trailer by the time you got there; you found out upon hiding and attacking the first person that entered the trailer that wasn’t her. when he choked out bitterly that she had left just an hour before you arrived with another woman, your heart sank. 

they had boarded a jet and flew off to find someone. he had been helping her throughout her being in hiding. he bothered to mention that she talked about you all the time. he told you that she was losing more hope of you coming back day by day

doesn’t matter. she has someone else now. 

“is she…is the girl she’s with…” you stuttered for the first time in your life. the man across from you removed the ice pack he was using to nurse the bruise you gave him. 

“i don’t know. didn’t seem like it, though.”

you nodded, at a loss of what to do. now what? you came to find her, she’s gone, you don’t know where or how else to look for. and she likely has someone else now, too. 

what if natasha didn’t want you back?

mason looked at you then, almost in pity. you felt very bad for punching him to get information out of him. 

“for what it’s worth, with the technology you have in your suit, i’m sure i can help link it to the approximate whereabouts of the aircraft.” 

you looked up to him with hope, nervousness bubbling in your stomach again. “a-are you…?”

“fuck it, i’m sick of natasha bemoaning about missing you everyday. i’m going to help you find her.”

-

natasha sat by the oak-coloured bench as she stared across the table to yelena, equally donning a new getup as she. downing yet another bottle of beer, she wondered if yelena deserved to know about you, or whether she was only putting you in more danger. but then, she wondered selfishly, if you were even bothered to come find her at all.

it’s been six months after all. six months without her must have been pretty peaceful for you, with all the storms and misfortune she felt she had brought into your life. maybe it was for the better that you had chased her away. maybe you had wanted her to go, so you could move on with the life you had always wanted for yourself. 

fuck. the alcohol was making her want to cry. everything about you made her want to cry. natasha missed you so much. the coldness of the spot in bed beside her each night, one less coffee mug she shared each morning, the empty space beside her when she needed someone to hold her. 

she never knew how dependent she had gotten on you, until you had to be separated. you have truly changed her, inside and out, and while natasha could complain about it otherwise, deep down in her heart she knew she would not have it any other way. 

how long more did she have to wait?

yelena gave her a weird look, and natasha excused herself to the bathroom. she couldn’t let her sister see her like this. 

-

but in the five minutes that she was gone, natasha came back to an empty bench, with the shop she had bought the beers from deserted and the shutters shut. it was as if the owner had suddenly upped and ran.

upped and ran. fuck. they found her. 

grabbing the gun holstered to her side, natasha called out slowly, “yelena…?”

silence. “yelena?”

nothing again. her aircraft was still there, and when she approached slowly, wary of her surroundings and any widows, the crunch her boot made with a branch underneath triggered the loudest scream she had ever heard. 

in the next second, a blur of two figures landed before her, wrestling to get the upper hand. yelena was screaming with all her might, and above her…above her, natasha could recognise that suit anywhere. 

it had her initials carved in the inner lining of the heart area, after all. 

“where is she?!” your voice sounded raspier, deeper than she remembered. you sounded tired and wary, too. 

but the hands pinning yelena down said otherwise, your strength overpowering hers as yelena tried desperately to free herself from under you. “where is what–asshole–!”

“where is natasha!” you pressed down on her neck, and at the choke yelena let out, the switch finally flipped in natasha. 

she screamed your name, from metres away, and at the immediate recognition, you faltered, and shot your gaze to her direction. she knew you couldn’t see her clearly under the low light of the broken street lamps, but it was her. 

the next thing you knew, though, the woman under you had wrenched a hand free and shot you in the neck with a widow bite. you cursed at the sting from the shock, but then all at once, darkness ensued. it definitely wasn’t the same widow bites natasha had designed over the years. 

-

“you nearly killed my wife, yelena!”

“how was i supposed to know that was your wife? i didn't even know you had a wife!”

-

when you woke to, it was yelena, the woman who nearly tried killing you, that was by your side. when the world stopped spinning for a while, you recognised that you were in the very aircraft mason had told you about. 

“hi,” you groaned lowly, fingers reaching for the spot that the blonde had shot the widow bite at. it was wrapped in a bandage.

“welcome back, my sister-in-law.” 

this time, she offered you a hand, and you took it gratefully to shake it. “sorry i shot you earlier. to be fair, you did try to kill me too.”

“fair game.”

the door slid open then, and at the sight of natasha entering, holding onto a pile of makeshift medication and bandages, your heart managed to stop beating for a while, if possible. 

her hair was longer, face a little more tired, worry lines etched into skin that was not so taut anymore. but still, she was your natasha, and she never looked more ethereal than in that moment. 

yelena had to step out of the room at the ferocity and aggressiveness that natasha engulfed you with, the squeals that left her sister’s mouth one that she would never have imagined hearing. 

“you came back, you came back!” natasha said in between tears of joy, as you hugged her even tighter. the nights with her pillows never replaced her body pressed against yours. 

“of course, i promised you,” you reassured, “i’ll come find you.”

“i thought–i thought–you’d given up, or i should give up,” she said between hiccups, sobs leaving her now at the incredulity of it all, “i thought you finally realised you were better off without me and–”

“nat,” you pulled her away to press a kiss firmly to her lips, “i would never do that.”

“i know. but you were gone so long and i waited. i waited and waited and…it was a long six months.”

you laughed, letting her lips chase yours once again. “it really was.”

when the two of you finally settled down and came back to earth, you snuck a glance at yelena, who you currently wished you had met in better circumstances, rather than nearly killing her to get to natasha. 

“guess i didn’t get on the best footing for meeting your sister, huh?” you whispered to natasha.

she nudged your side, prompting you to smile at yelena. she gave you a weird look, but awkwardly smiled back. “yeah, and you know what’s even crazier?”

“what?”

“you’re about to meet my parents, too.”

-

you sat awkwardly beside natasha at the dinner table in melina’s house, shifting uncomfortably as yelena just burst out screaming that the “family” natasha had always told you was made up of red room agents, was always real to her. 

you thought she looked like a child throwing a tantrum. then, you bit the inside of your cheek and berated yourself for thinking so, because yelena of all people, was a woman who never did get a childhood at all. she deserved at least this. 

under the table, you felt natasha hold your hand for support. you squeezed it gently. she’s got you. 

you soothingly wrapped around her trembling fingers, still. because as strong as natasha was, biting back and spitting at her “parents” then, she was still hurt, and a teardrop had fallen to the side of her face that she had quickly wiped away. the teardrop no one would have noticed, except you, who had been wiping almost all of her tears away in the years that you had been together.

later on, when your spider-senses overloaded with the impending arrival of dreykov’s men, while natasha and melina argued over their plan to finally take him down, you found it hard to ignore the crying coming from yelena’s room. and you felt even worse for what you were going to subject her to later. 

–

natasha entrusted you to deal with taskmaster, while she handled the big man himself. you were about to argue, fearing for her safety and protection, but with a warning glance from her mother on your possibility of doubt over natasha’s own skills, you kept quiet. you had to trust your wife. 

but what natasha failed to tell you, however, was that taskmaster was more competent, and dangerous, than all the other widows involved. she had told you that they would be difficult, sure, but you hadn’t expected difficult to include you struggling to catch your breath, making up new moves on the fly to prevent the human weapon on copying your combat style almost perfectly. they had used your agility and swiftness against you, and you were convinced that had they had your webs, you would almost certainly be done for, too. 

“i don’t want to kill you,” you wheezed as you managed to sneak a move to tumble them to the ground, but the way in which they glared back at you and aimed a launcher right at your face, told you all that you needed to know. the feeling wasn’t mutual. 

with the help of natasha’s father in finally locking the taskmaster in a cell momentarily, you took the opportunity to find her, even as explosions rang through your ears and the shaking of the base showing the impending signs of doom. 

– 

you held her as the both of you free fell through the skies, natasha’s fingers holding on to you as if you would disappear from her once again. 

“i’ve got you,” you murmured into her skin. she nodded slowly, telling you she understood. 

you deployed the parachute when you reached closer to the ground. natasha had gotten very good at getting over her fear of heights, as she latched on. years ago, she was still screaming in fear each time you brought her swinging through the city after your dates and missions together. now, only a small exhale left her lips as you landed her softly, safely, on the ground. you smiled to yourself at the change you only noticed now. 

“i still have…i have to…” she gestured towards dreykov’s daughter, the taskmaster, behind you. you wish you had known. 

you nodded understandingly. natasha was kind, kinder than anyone you knew. she was just like that. “go. do what you have to do to set her free. i’ll stay behind, in case you need help.”

“after she almost knocked you out?” a hint of a playful smirk, you jabbed her side lovingly. 

“i was pulling my punches! you told me not to kill her.”

natasha snuck a kiss on your cheek. “i know. my hero.”

– 

you and natasha exchanged quiet smiles throughout the ride back to ross’ prison, or custody, wherever it was. it didn’t matter. she had taken down the demons of her past, and she had gotten you back. you had found her, and you were never letting her out of your sight ever again. 

weren’t you blinded by love before? nobody else mattered. not what ross had to say, not what tony had screamed at you for, not what steve or anyone else tried to convince you to do. being blinded by love for natasha was never a bad thing for you. 

“i never told you, but i like your new suit,” you whispered, holding her hands through your handcuffs. 

she hid the blush appearing on her cheeks. “i know. your hands said enough.”

“and your family too. your dad’s a character, and your mom’s really strong. stronger than me, that’s for sure.” 

“and yelena? my sister?” she found a way to interlace her fingers with yours, to the disgust of ross’ agents. you didn’t care.

“i like her the most. she reminds me of the best parts of myself. she’s humble, kind, funny, and sensitive, not in a bad way. and she’s like you, headstrong and stubborn.” natasha suddenly felt you slipping something into her fingers. a piece of paper. she kept it skilfully from the prying eyes of the agents in the car.

“just the way you like it.”

“you bet,” you leaned back, feet “accidentally” kicking ross and causing a momentary distraction for his guards to aim their guns at you all at once. natasha took it as her signal to open the note. 

there, scrawled in yelena’s handwriting, was an address that she had picked from the many safehouses you had so many years before. it was in new york, not far from where you and natasha lived. you had slipped her a burner phone before she left, too, as you informed natasha in your cells later on. 

“i know it’s all real for you, too,” you reassured the redhead, “and i never got to apologise for leaving you, and your avengers family, for so long. i wanted to make it up to you. we’ll make sure yelena is never far, and you will always have her by your side from now on.”

natasha felt her cheeks hurting from the smile she was sporting. “you know, i have spent my whole life trying to go home. to go back to how things were, to undo all that i have done in the past. and i managed to do just that, just a few days ago. take down dreykov, come back to my family, go back to my childhood home. but somehow, all of that was not home anymore. at least not the home i envisioned myself to go back to.”

“and what is the home you envision now?”

“you. i come back to your arms, and it is home now. nothing else compares.”

your fingers ghosted the wedding band on your ring finger subconsciously, scrunching your eyes and trying hard to fight back the tears from falling as you listened to her declaration.

36 hours or six months. the timing never mattered. you and natasha would find each other, and come home to each other's love, regardless.